


P.R.I.M: Pranks Resulting in Matrimony

by ghtlovesthg



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, April Fool's Day fic, Canon Divergent, Everlark Fic Exchange Springtime Edition 2017, F/M, Fic Exchange, Fluff, Matchmaking, Never reaped, Pranks, everlark, everlark fic exchange, fluff and nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghtlovesthg/pseuds/ghtlovesthg
Summary: A submission for the Everlark Fic Exchange on tumblr, and a fic in honor of April Fool's Day. Prompt: Noting tension between Katniss and the baker’s youngest son, carefree and mischievous Prim can’t resist pranking her annoyingly uptight and very responsible sister. Never-reaped!Everlark, Complete.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to The RPGenius for proofreading this bit of nonsense, and to Mejhiren for being supportive. Also to the great folks who organized and submitted to the Everlark Fic Exchange - thanks for all you do. Lastly, thanks to 567inpanem for sending in the prompt! :)
> 
> This is extremely light fare, but I needed a break between chapters of Cinders. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> I do not own The Hunger Games.

It was just a harmless little prank. The year’s Games were over, and life was feeling far too dreary. At the ripe old age of fourteen, Prim felt it was high time to add some levity to the endless drone of life in Twelve.

And each identical day, Prim knew her sister’s only thought was of survival. They were all overdue for something unexpected, no matter how small. Something that would bring a smile to Katniss’s face.

Prim’s options were limited. A prank that wasted anything usable was out of the question; it would never amuse Katniss and only add to her hardship. That left Prim with creating a circumstance that was out of the norm and unexpected.

Gathering up a little parcel of goat cheese, Prim headed to the bakery. She hoped it was enough for a loaf of bread. If all went well, her prank should be well underway half a week from now.

 

* * *

 

Katniss sighed heavily as she kicked off her hunting boots and slid the game bag off her shoulder and onto the ground.

“I’ve got a squirrel no one wanted for the stew, and a loaf of bread from Mellark’s,” she announced wearily. It had been a long day, hunting since dawn and bartering all afternoon. And to top it all off, she’d had to trade with the middle Mellark son for bread. He made no secret of his disdain for backdoor trades with Seamfolk. It seemed he took after his mother.

Katniss much preferred trading with the baker himself, or better yet, his youngest son. Both were pleasant and polite, but dealing with Peeta was especially enjoyable.

Prim ushered her away from the door and her things, intent on making sure Katniss went to wash her hands before handling the meat and bread. Katniss rolled her eyes. The extreme concern about hand sanitation must be a healer thing, she surmised.

In reality, Prim wanted her away from the hunting bag so she could switch out the fresh loaf of bread for the one she’d gotten from Mellark’s earlier that week, which was now rock-hard. It had been hidden beneath a pile of bandages in the cupboard for days.

Prim couldn’t wait to see the puzzlement on her sister’s face when Katniss thought the bread completely hardened on the way home. She would be flummoxed, Prim would surprise her with the truth, then they’d have a good laugh. The best part was, the stale bread could still be made into toast or dipped into the stew they were eating that night to soften it. There would be no waste, so Katniss could truly enjoy the creativity of the prank.

Except things didn’t go that way at all.

Katniss returned and reached into the bag for the food. Her eyebrows furrowed as she drew the unyielding bread out of the bag. Her fingers flexed, and bits of the crust flaked off and fluttered to the ground. But there was no give to the bread.

Her face grew stormier by the second. She looked furious. Prim had imagined Katniss would be more confused than incensed.

“That rotten cheat! He gave me old bread!” Katniss seethed.

Her ire, when provoked, was no small thing. And it was intimidating. The extreme reaction took Prim by surprise, and as a result, she hesitated just a moment too long in coming clean about the prank.

Before Prim had taken a bracing breath to begin her confession, Katniss was charging out the door and back to the Merchant Quarter.

Prim considered following her to clear up the whole mess before Katniss reached the bakery. She really did. But fourteen-year-olds are not known for readily accepting responsibility when they’ve transgressed, and Prim was no exception. She hoped there would still be bakery bread on their table in the future.

 

* * *

 

 Katniss knocked impatiently on the bakery’s back door, and sure enough, when it opened, Pearse Mellark was on the other side.

“You again,” he muttered dully.

“Yes, _me_. You may think I’m beneath you, just because I’m Seam, but I traded you fresh game for that bread, and I know when I’m being swindled!

Pearse stared at her blankly. At least he wasn’t denying it, she thought triumphantly.

Katniss raised her right hand, which still clutched the stale bread, and tapped the loaf against the door frame. The banging echoed loudly around them. “Hear that? This is stale all the way through. I can’t believe you would give me this when I’ve been trading with your family for over seven years! This is so dense and hard it you could use it as a projectile!”

“Is something the matter?” a voice asked from beyond the door. Peeta stepped into view, wiping his hands on his apron. Katniss nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d couldn’t believe she’d just said all that in front of Peeta, especially the disparaging remark about bread being hurled through the air.

There was no love lost between her and Pearse, but she owed Peeta her life. Specifically _because_ he’d tossed loaves of bread to her. Those ‘projectiles’ had saved not only her, but Prim.

She knew she must be beet-red, and it felt as though her heart had sunk to her toes, but Katniss pressed on. She might be humiliating herself, but she still had her pride, and Katniss wasn’t going to let someone who looked down on her, like Pearse, take advantage of her.

“The loaf of bread your brother traded me is at least three days old. I was trading for food, _not_ a doorstop,” she added, still bristling. Peeta glared at Pearse as she finished her explanation.

“What, you believe _her_? I didn’t!” Pearse declared.

Peeta ignored him and turned back to her. “I’m so sorry Katniss. This won’t happen again, I promise.” Another grimace was directed Pearse’s way, but the older Mellark merely rolled his eyes.

“I was just about to say how glad I was to see you,” Peeta continued. “When Prim came to trade earlier this week, I was worried you wouldn’t be around as often.”

Katniss might have puzzled over his words, and why Prim had been trading with Peeta, but he directed what could only be described as a devastating grin at her, and it took most of Katniss’s focus to remind herself she was still upset.

“I think, in the future, you should just ask for me when you come to trade,” Peeta suggested.

Katniss nodded her agreement, cheeks still pink. Pearse scoffed, turning back to the interior of the kitchen in disgust, where he began moving trays around noisily.

“That way, we can avoid any ill-conceived jokes on Pearse’s part. I don’t even know where he found a loaf of bread that old…” Peeta trailed off. “Anyways, I’ll get you a fresh one, and a cookie for your trouble.”

“There’s no need for-”

“Nonsense. I insist.” Peeta picked out a large iced cookie from a cooling rack, and reached over to a nearby tray for a fresh loaf of bread. He pressed them into her hands. “You’re my favorite trading partner. I want to take care of you.”

His smile was so sweet, and his eyes so sincere, Katniss couldn’t remember what she’d said in parting by the time she was back on the road to the Seam.

 

* * *

 

 The odds were strangely in her favor, Prim theorized, as she munched on her cookie.  She’d gotten away with the bread swap scot-free. No confession necessary, no disastrous falling out between Katniss and the bakery, and they even had a fresh loaf instead of the stale one now. Plus, she’d gotten an iced cookie out of the whole deal.

It tasted heavenly. Prim had only allowed herself little nibbles to try and make it last. She was on her last bite, one day later, when someone knocked on the door.

Katniss got up and answered, and Prim was surprised to see one of the Mellarks had come out to the Seam. She swallowed the last of the cookie nervously. It was Peeta. The very person who’d traded the bread for her goat cheese. Maybe she wasn’t so lucky. Maybe the truth was about to come out. If Katniss found out she hadn’t spoken up, and had allowed her to go to the bakery to make a fool of herself and potentially ruin a lucrative trade partnership, Prim knew she was dead meat.

But Peeta didn’t even notice she was there. His eyes never left Katniss, and the way he looked at her, it was as if he’d discovered everything worth wanting in the world, all in one place.

It wasn’t very subtle. Prim bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Poor Peeta, Katniss would soon put him out of his misery. He wasn’t the first person to be quite taken with her older sister. Usually, Katniss was so oblivious, the fact that they would never have a chance became clear to the would-be suitors in record time. And when Katniss _did_ happen to cotton-on that someone was interested, she was so matter-of-fact about conveying her disinterest that it was painful to witness.

Except, Katniss did something different, something Prim had never seen. She got all flustered. She kept tripping over her words, and reaching back to pull her braid over her shoulder, where it never stayed. She was so unpracticed and awkward in the art of flirting, it was difficult to watch.

And Peeta seemed totally enchanted.

But most importantly, Katniss was _smiling_. Her smiles were unfortunately rare, around anyone but Prim. But now she had an utterly goofy little grin on her face, simply because Peeta brought another loaf of bread to their home, to make sure there were no residual bad feelings from yesterday’s trade.

Prim could barely contain her excitement. As a prank, the bread swap had been an absolute failure. But as a revelation, it was a huge success. She had a job to do.

 

* * *

 

Prim decided to retire as a prankster the very next day. Though her career had been sadly short-lived, her new chosen profession, matchmaking, also involved subterfuge and a certain sense of playfulness. Or at least it would in Katniss’s case.

She couldn’t recall _ever_ seeing someone catch her sister’s attention. And as a young lady who was quite fond of romance, sparse as it seemed to be in Twelve, Prim had been watching. This business with Peeta was a major development.

Dozens of campaigns and strategies were rejected. She conferred regularly with Lady, but her second-in-command was no help. Aside from when the two traded, there just didn’t seem to be many plausible ways to get Peeta, a busy Merchant baker’s son, in the same vicinity as Katniss, a Seam huntress who spent more time in uncharted wilderness than the district.

Winter approached, and things fell back into their bleak, old routine. Katniss hunted, Peeta baked, both kept trading, and Prim kept plotting.

Eventually Katniss had lost the pleased air about her when she returned from trading, and Prim suspected that she’d convinced herself that the admiration she so clearly had for Peeta was nothing special, or at least nothing worth acting on. That would never do.

By the time the Victory Tour rolled around, Prim was desperate to enact a plan. As usual, the Tour would kick off with a dinner for the tributes and a victory rally in the town square. Prim vowed to give Peeta and her sister a chance to interact.

She started by making a big deal of getting a vantage point for the rally in the town square. Prim wheedled until Katniss agreed to go early, to guarantee them a good spot. On the day, Prim took the lead as soon as they entered the square, declaring that she would determine the perfect place.

As Prim had hoped, the Mellarks were there early. It wasn’t a surprise, considering they lived right on the square. And as luck would have it, Peeta was standing at the back of the little group.

Prim got as close as she dared without being obvious, and stopped. “Right here. This is it. The perfect spot.”

Katniss glanced over to where Peeta stood, just out of earshot. “Are you sure?” she asked uncomfortably.

“Oh definitely,” Prim affirmed. She threw in a couple of nods and a bright smile to make it convincing. As if she cared where they stood for the dreadful Capitol-mandated rally! But Katniss denied her nothing, even when her requests were nonsense, and today was no exception.

“I’m going to go wait for Mom and the Hawthornes, and bring them over. You keep our spot,” Prim directed.

Katniss’s gaze darted back to Peeta momentarily. “I can go get them. If you want to stay here, I mean.”

But Prim had anticipated this. “Don’t be silly. No one’s going to give me a wide berth. We need someone to stay behind who can command respect.”

That had Katniss’s attention. “Did you just imply that I’m off-putting and intimidating?”

Prim smiled mischievously and gave her a quick hug. “Try not to scare _too_ many people. Be right back.”

As she walked off, Prim bit her lip. She had absolutely no intention of leading her mother and the Hawthornes back there. If Katniss was surrounded by familiar people, there was no way she and Peeta would strike up a conversation. Prim just hoped Peeta would seize an opportunity when one was practically dropped into his lap.

 

* * *

 

Katniss grimaced. For the tenth time in two minutes, she craned her head to look over the gathering crowd. Where _was_ everyone? She’d kept a decent space open for a while, but by now, with so many people gathered, there was no way to keep the surrounding area free of rally-goers, no matter how intensely she glared.

Little by little, the space between her and the Mellarks had closed. A few individuals stood between them now, but as people kept coming to the square, she and Peeta got jostled closer and closer.

She hated the Victory Tour rallies. There were too many bodies pressed close together, and seeing everyone herded together for the Capitol’s whims filled Katniss with a sense of desperation. The crowd had a strange energy, too. They were all supposed to be celebrating, but the event did more to elicit misery and anger than anything else. Or at least it did for her.

A cluster of merchant teens guffawed loudly behind her as more of their friends arrived. Great. More people. She rolled her eyes. Apparently there were some folks who enjoyed the ‘festivities.’

Peeta glanced over his shoulder at the sound of their laughter, and his eyes met hers.

Katniss could tell he was surprised to see her. She suspected it was because it looked like she was skulking around all alone. But Peeta only smiled, and moved behind the few individuals that stood between them, detaching from his family to join her.

“Hey Katniss,” he greeted. She noticed the scent of cinnamon and dill, instead of the smell of sweat and coal dust that had been pervasive only a moment ago.

“Hi Peeta.”

“Is your family meeting you here?” he asked.

“Supposedly,” she grumbled. Peeta nodded, brows furrowed, not sure exactly how to respond. There was a long moment of silence, and Katniss cast about for something to say. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to stand near the Mellarks. She could never get her mind to work quite right when Peeta was around.

“I always marvel at the fact that the Capitol insists on the whole district gathering for these rallies,” Peeta mused. “I mean, it’s inherently risky, you know? There’s strength in numbers, and everyone’s still reeling from the horror and injustice of the Games. Emotions are heightened, people are at their angriest. It seems like a recipe for unrest.”

Katniss looked incredulously at Peeta, then searched the faces of the people standing nearby to see if anyone had heard. No one seemed to be listening.

Peeta had the grace to look sheepish and a little guilty. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She was surprised he would voice those observations aloud. Katniss had never spoken plainly about the way things were with anyone inside the fence, only in the forest with Gale. She was both impressed that Peeta had dared to say it, and flattered that he trusted her.

Katniss told Peeta not to apologize, and found herself adding her own thoughts: “It just shows how confident they are in their control. It might be the perfect opportunity to make a statement, but no one would dream of it. And they know that.”

She stared at the empty stage, disheartened. Every one of them had been cowed and scared into silence from a young age. Herself included.

“I didn’t mean to make things seem more bleak,” Peeta said gently, as the silence between them lapsed.  “It was a stupid comment.”

Katniss shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. It’s the truth. It might have been unwise to say, but it’s refreshing to hear.”  With cameras circling, it was risky, but there was a certain thrill to it - Seam and Merchant, talking honestly about the way things were...it was novel. There had been a time when she’d sung rebellious songs as a child, songs her father had taught her. She’d been fearless. Even the might of the Capitol couldn’t stamp out that quality in the very young. It was innate to a certain age.

Innate, but not invincible. Her father died, and everything changed.  Loss was a most effective teacher, and Katniss became a student in the myriad ways one could avoid more of it in the future. Let no one get close. Fend for yourself and your own. Keep your head down.

But swapping dangerous thoughts with Peeta in hushed voices made Katniss feel just a little bit fearless again. And after feeling powerless day in and out, year after year...the change, no matter how small, was invigorating.

“Anyways, it isn’t as if this is some joyful occasion you’re spoiling. We’re here to stare at the Capitol’s latest cautionary-tale-turned-exemplar before they’re shunted off to the next District.”

“Such a terrible way to see the nation,” Peeta mused. “Imagine if it were different, though. Imagine you could just wake up one day, and decide to travel. Just board a train and see what’s out there.”

Katniss thought of such a world longingly. Had there ever been such a reality?

“Where would you go?” Peeta was smiling as he asked, and he looked so interested, so _open_ with his infectious grin and bright eyes, that for an instant, Katniss thought wildly -- _anywhere --_ if he’d go too.

Katniss quickly shook that thought away. There had been a time when Gale had expressed a longing to take off and go wherever the wilderness took them. She’d shot him down immediately. There was no reason hearing the same sentiment out of Peeta’s mouth suddenly seemed so tempting. It was nonsense.

Instead, she focused back on Peeta’s question. She considered the climates she’d seen in the arenas, and thought of the snippets of unfamiliar cultures she’d witnessed during interviews with tributes’ families each year.

“Mountains, maybe,” she answered. “Big ones, covered in trees as far as the eye can see. But we have mountains here, and I can’t imagine any more beautiful.” 

What she said startled her. It was true that even compared to her wildest, grandest imaginings, there was no place she considered more beautiful, and nowhere she’d rather be free, than the little forest valley in which her father had taught her to thrive. She almost laughed.

“I would like to see those mountains, but I think I would always come back here. Not to the district, but to the woods. They’re home, they’re...” she trailed off, unable to completely explain what she was feeling.

“They’re a part of you,” he finished for her. Katniss nodded, relieved to be understood. “And you’re a part of them, I think.”

“What about you?”

Peeta smiled wistfully. “The ocean. On the other side of Panem. At sunset.”

“You’ve thought about this,” Katniss stated, a curl to her lips.

“I have. Life in Twelve is so small, I want to see something boundless, something that can’t be confined.

Katniss knew the feeling he sought. It was a feeling of awe, of being a part of a limitless whole. And it was just out of reach on the other side of the fence. She wished Peeta could see what she’d seen looking out over Appalachia, the rolling swells of the mountains lit by the sun, and gently drifting clouds casting shadows over the valleys.

There was breathtaking beauty in Panem. The Capitol couldn’t destroy it, but they could certainly blind their citizens to it. There were precious few who ever got a glimpse outside their district

“But what you said, about coming back. That sounds right too,” Peeta said. He looked back at her. “Even if I could go anywhere, I think I’d always return. There’d be something calling me back.”

Katniss itched to ask what had such a powerful hold on him. It was an unexpected hunger, the wish to know Peeta.

It was then that the newest Victor, along with their stylists, mentor, and escort, filed onto the stage, distracting Katniss from her surprising thoughts.

The Victor looked miserable, which was hardly unexpected. Their escort, however, flitted about the stage, adjusting people’s outfits and stances before the ceremony started. The mayor and Cray greeted them, shaking hands with the whole crew. Madge stepped forward, solemnly presenting the them each with a bouquet of white flowers. The Victor, a girl from Four, didn’t even come up to her shoulder.

“It’s such a farce,” Katniss spat. “We lavish them with all sorts of useless gifts the moment they step out of the arena - the crown, the money, exotic flowers and gifts from every district, you name it. All of it meaningless. None of that will help. They need something that will tell them that they have to press on until they find something worth staying for.”

“What would you give them, to show them that? If you could give them anything?” Peeta asked.

Katniss smiled softly. “A dandelion. Just one. To tell them that tenacity and resilience will prevail. To show them that something remains, and can thrive, even after they’ve experienced the worst thing that will ever happen to them.”

She looked away from the stage, and his eyes caught hers. There was recognition in his gaze. “I knew that’s what you would choose,” he whispered. He _knew_ that part of her, deep down. The girl under the apple tree in the rain. And the girl afterward, who had realized she could claw her way back to life, her family in tow. No one else did, not really.

She found herself nodding. “They need to know that life will go on. No matter what. And it may feel cruel, but there’s hope in that as well.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air, before she continued.

“I know what you’d give them.” The speech between them had grown hushed.  “Bread.”

They’d never spoken of that day. She never thought she’d get the chance to tell him what those two burned loaves had meant to her that day, what _he_ had come to mean to her.

“That bread would show them that despite the way it looks, things are never hopeless. Even when it feels like no one can see your pain, that you’re invisible, someone sees you. When the rest of the world tells you you’re not worth saving, someone still cares.”

Their eyes were anchored to each other’s. Peeta wet his lips, as if about to say something, but a hand tapped on the microphone to get everyone’s attention, and the speeches began.

Reluctant, they turned to the stage, listening to the carefully crafted words and expertly arranged artifice. But after their conversation, Katniss felt like it couldn’t reach her.

 

* * *

 

As Katniss walked home, she was pensive. Life was strange. Even living the narrow lives defined by their tightly controlled cage, people defied expectation. She’d never imagined talking to Peeta could be like that. She’d felt brave, hopeful, and adventurous, all at once. At the same time, the restlessness, anger, and despair she felt as a citizen in Panem was ever-present. But it had felt more bearable, because she’d felt understood.

They’d discussed an imagined future where the limit of one’s freedom was defined only by how far the track led, and Peeta made it seem like their existence wasn’t defined by the constraints forced upon them. She’d alluded to her past, and the most terrible day of her life. She’d felt raw, exposed, and most unbelievable of all, less alone.

Katniss had never had a conversation like it. And what was even more surprising, was that she’d done _at least_ half the talking. He’d drawn her out. He’d helped her realize that despite what the Capitol had made of it, Katniss loved the land that District Twelve had arisen from. What Peeta could do with words, and elicit from her, had her stunned.

Prim, walking beside her, knew that something had happened. Katniss was a consummate hunter, and it was unlike her to be so caught up in her thoughts and oblivious to her surroundings. She hadn’t even been angry about them never joining her. Whatever she and Peeta had talked about, it had shifted something in Katniss, and torn at her carefully-guarded barriers. All according to plan.

 

* * *

 

An opportunity to celebrate in Twelve was about as rare as restraint in the Capitol, so the district was in high spirits for the Harvest Festival, despite the occasion punctuating the close of another disastrous cycle of the Games.

The entire District gathered in the square for the uncharacteristic night of revelry. There would be food, music, and dancing. Both her targets would be in the same place. Prim knew this was her chance.

Katniss was a fine dancer, but she never bothered to seek out a partner. Usually she just joined in on the fast dances alongside Prim. And something told Prim that Peeta wasn’t quite bold enough to ask Katniss to partner with him.

Prim had no idea what sort of dancer Peeta was, but that hardly mattered. After the way Katniss had drifted about the house in the week between the Victory Rally and tonight, deep in thought, Prim doubted she’d notice if Peeta stepped on both her feet at once.

The challenge was getting them to the ‘dance floor’ at the center of the square. Surely once they were there together, everything would fall into place, as it had at the rally.

Prim started with Peeta. He was just bringing a fresh batch of apple dumplings to his family’s stand when she caught up with him.

“Hey Peeta.”

“Hey Prim,” he said cheerfully, as he started setting out the fresh pastries. He nudged one of the smaller dumplings in her direction and winked. “Enjoying the festival?”

She nodded happily and took a bite of the generous offering. Peeta glanced at her sideways. “Is your sister here with you?”

Prim took another big bite of the dumpling, trying very hard not to smile at Peeta’s obviousness. She shrugged, mumbling “Somewhere ‘round here,” around the gooey apple goodness.

Peeta kept transferring dumplings from the trays he’d brought, and Prim finished her treat.

“Will you dance with me, after the mayor’s speech?” Prim asked.

Peeta paused, and looked at her with concern. “Aren’t I a little old for you, squirt?” he asked.

Prim rolled her eyes. As if tacking on a juvenile nickname would deter her from her purpose.

“You’re only fourteen, Prim,” he reminded her gently, before wondering aloud, “Is that too young to be dancing with boys?” He furrowed his brows and stared off to the side, as if recalling the days he’d been her age, a mere four years ago, took great effort.

“I’m not asking for _real_ , silly. It’s for a bet.” Prim looked down at the counter and started straightening a pile of wax paper sleeves for baked goods. It was hard to lie to Peeta when he leveled his trusting blue eyes on her. “My best friend Metzi just got a boyfriend. And I’m not jealous or anything, but she refuses to talk about anything else. It’s annoying. So I told her that boyfriends were nothing special, and she said that at least _she_ had someone to dance with at the festival.”

Prim peeked up at him to see if Peeta was following her rambling fabrication. He was nodding along. “So I told her I could get anyone I wanted to dance with me, and she bet me I couldn’t. Now if I don’t have a partner, I’ll be completely humiliated!”

Peeta frowned. “But why me? Couldn’t you ask one of your classmates?”

“I dunno,” Prim shrugged noncommittally. “Katniss seems to think you’re cute, so it seemed like a good idea.”

Peeta nearly fell out of the bakery stand. “She does?” he blurted in near disbelief. “I mean, uh, that’s nice.”

It took everything Prim had not to laugh in Peeta’s face. He was trying to so hard to look nonchalant in the face of that little piece of news, and failing so miserably.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I understand.” She stepped back from the stand. “I think I’ll just have Katniss take me home. She wouldn’t want me to be the object of ridicule and teasing, and I _would_ feel awfully ashamed if I couldn’t even find a dance partner.”

Prim turned and winced. That was laying it on a bit too thick. But it worked like a charm.

“Wait!” Peeta said. “If it’s just as a friend helping out a friend, so you can win your bet, I suppose I could be your dance partner.”

Prim couldn’t stop a mischievous grin from spreading over her face. “Why thank you, Peeta! Don’t forget, it’s the first dance after the mayor’s speech.”

And with that, she headed back to the festivities, delighted that all her plans thus far were falling into place.

 

* * *

 

As the applause following the mayor’s bolstering speech faded, and the fiddles took up, Prim turned suddenly to Katniss.

“Katniss, will you do me a favor?”

Katniss was tapping her foot along with the music as she watched couples gather in the square. “Sure Prim,” she answered easily, half-distracted.

“Glad to hear it,” Prim said briskly, “because he’s heading over now.”

Katniss glanced over to her. “He?”

Prim wore her most winning smile. “I asked someone to dance, but I think I twisted my ankle during one of that fast songs before. It’s nothing major,” she rushed to assure Katniss, knowing her overprotective nature. “ but I started noticing it more during the speech. You’ll step in for me, right?”

“I suppose…” Katniss didn’t see why Prim couldn’t just cry off. It would probably look silly, her dancing with someone Prim’s age, but she understood how her sister hated to disappoint anyone. That sweetness was one of the things Katniss sought to protect the most as Prim grew up.

“You’re dancing with boys now, Little Duck?” she asked, raising a brow.

Prim’s eyes were watching someone approach in the crowd as she answered. “No, you are.”

And suddenly, Peeta was standing there in front of them.

“This is the dance you wanted, right Prim?” Peeta greeted. He turned and smiled shyly at Katniss. “Hi Katniss.”

Speechless, Katniss turned to look at Prim. There was a look of shock on her face, like a creature that suddenly found itself in the middle of  a snare.

Prim beamed. “Sure is!” And with that, the younger girl nudged her older sister in Peeta’s direction and stepped back. “Have fun!”

Peeta wasn’t sure what was going on, but when Katniss stepped up to him hesitantly, placing one hand in his palm and laying the other on swell of his shoulder, he wasn’t going to stand around waiting for an explanation.

He clasped his fingers around hers and drew them into the nearby cluster of swaying bodies. When Peeta braced his hand on her waist, her lips parted with a surprised breath. His cheeks pinkened at her response.

“So...to what do I owe the pleasure?” He had to know how he suddenly came to be dancing with Katniss Everdeen.

“Shouldn’t I be asking that? What are you doing, agreeing to dance with Prim? She’s only fourteen, you know.” Katniss meant for her voice to sound reproving, but she was a little too breathless to carry it off.

He nodded his agreement. “She said it was to win a bet against Metzi. Something about being able to find a dance partner. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed.”

“Metzi? Who’s Metzi?”

Peeta looked puzzled. “Prim’s best friend?” Surely Katniss knew the people who were closest to her sister.

“Never heard of her,” Katniss said wryly. “Does that sound like a real name to you?” Then again, Katniss realized, she was talking to _Peeta_. She’d puzzled over the oddness of his name at length. Still, Katniss was sure she knew all of Prim’s friends.

Peeta seemed unconvinced. Prim was so sweet, surely she wouldn’t lie to him. “Why would she bother making that up?”

Katniss gave a rueful half-smile. “Sounds like Prim has a crush on you.” Her eyes grew shuttered and a little sad. She couldn’t decide if she was more bothered that Prim was growing into a young woman so rapidly, or that her little sister may have set her cap at Peeta Mellark.

Peeta looked at her earnestly. “Prim is lovely - she’s an Everdeen, after all. But I can assure you, there’s nothing in our shared future but friendship.”

His heart flipped at the hopeful light that entered Katniss’s eyes at his words. “Then I guess it’s lucky she sat this one out,” she said. “You don’t have to let her down gently, and Prim has a chance to set her sights elsewhere and save face.”

“Very lucky,” he agreed. There was admiration and a hint of hunger in Peeta’s gaze, and the combination of his frank regard and proximity had her breath catching all over again.

 

* * *

 

Prim congratulated herself on a job well done. Time to sit back, she figured, and let nature take its course. What more could fledgling lovebirds require than a surprise dance at the Harvest Festival?

Things looked good at first. In the weeks following the festival, Katniss returned from from trading in town each evening with elevated spirits. She hummed to herself frequently, seemingly without knowing it.

But each night, when Katniss caught sight of Prim, her mood seemed to deflate. And worse, when Prim would try to casually inquire about trading at the bakery, Katniss looked distinctly guilty.

Growing worried, Prim finally came out and asked. “How is Peeta doing?”

Katniss looked up in alarm from her task, untangling some of Prim’s yarn that Buttercup had tangled. “Why are you asking _me_?”

“Because you trade with him?”

“Right,” Katniss said, relieved. “He’s good. I guess. All the Mellarks seem fine.”

“How was dancing with him at the festival?” Prim probed, a teasing smile on her face.

“Oh. It was alright, I suppose. Nothing special.”

Prim frowned. That didn’t sound good. Katniss quailed at the look on her face.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to have your dance with Peeta, Prim! And I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but there will be plenty of time for boys when you’re a little older, don’t you think? Boys who might be closer to your own age?”

Prim opened her mouth to respond, then paused, totally confused.

Katniss continued on. “And Peeta mentioned that he considers you a friend -- which is great in its own right! Peeta thinks the world of you Little Duck, but just...not... _that_ way. Are you horribly upset?”

There was consternation and extreme worry in her sister’s eyes, and Prim realized that Katniss thought _she_ had a crush on Peeta. Oh for odds’ sake!

Prim rolled her eyes as emphatically as she could manage. Katniss needed to realize she was being ridiculous. “Yes, I lied to Peeta to get him to dance, but only because spending the whole festival by his family’s stand looked so dull, and I thought he ought to have a little fun.”

The relief that flooded Katniss’s face was immediate.

“So,” Prim prodded, “How is Peeta?”

This time Katniss elaborated, a little smile on her face. “He’s good. He’s experimenting with some recipes at the bakery, and he made me his unofficial taste tester. He saves a little corner of whatever he’s working on for when I come to trade.”

Prim smiled knowingly. “Sounds like he really values your opinion. Anything _else_?” she prompted. Surely they must be a couple by now.

Katniss furrowed her brow. “Not really. Should there be? We only talk briefly when trading.” She looked at Prim suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

Prim pursed her lips, disappointed. “No reason. Just wondering if he had a good time at the festival.” Katniss accepted her answer, and Prim went outside to see Lady shortly after.

“It’s no good, Lady! We need another stratagem. I don’t know if they’re too shy, or too scared, but it didn’t work.”

She sighed morosely and stared up at the ceiling of the little hutch that housed Lady, trying to imagine how she could get her sister and Peeta to acknowledge the obvious.

The afternoon sunlight shone through a section of the roof that needed to be patched. The little structure was in need of repair, and Katniss had promised to get around to patching the roof for months now, even going so far as to trade for some old wooden boards. Now winter was melting to spring, and with a leaky roof, Lady’s sleeping area would soon be under a deluge every time it rained.  

A devious grin stole over Primrose’s face as an idea entered her head. “Why Lady, that just might work! I knew I made you second-in-command for a reason!” She hopped to her feet, saluted the indifferent goat with a flourish, and headed for Mellark Bakery.

 

* * *

 

Prim wanted to tear her hair out. Talking to Pearse Mellark was like trying to converse with a brick wall.

“I don’t see why you can’t just tell him yourself,” Pearse complained.

She sighed tediously. “Because. I told you, I’ve got somewhere to be, and it’s really important Peeta get this message.”

“I’m not his secretary. He’s just making a delivery to the Undersees, he’ll be back soon.”

“I can’t wait that long,” Prim protested. In reality, she had all the time in the world to wait around and deliver a message to Peeta. But she’d intentionally waited until he left the bakery, paper-wrapped parcels under his arm, before knocking on the bakery’s back door.

She needed to cover her tracks as much as possible. And getting Pearse to relay her message was the best way to do that.

“Now, listen carefully: I need you to tell Peeta that one of the Everdeen girls stopped by, and they need help fixing a roof over their goat pen this Monday, okay? Say it just like that.”

“Why would you want Peeta’s help fixing a roof? He bakes. Are you planning on spackling the holes with frosting or something?”

Prim rolled her eyes. It was obvious that Pearse thought he was pretty clever. Before he could follow up with a terrible joke about Peeta’s prowess with gingerbread house repair, Prim interrupted.

“Because he volunteered, and we took him up on it.”

Now it was Pearse’s turn to roll his eyes. “That sounds like Peeta. What a bleeding-heart,” he scoffed.

“Just deliver the message, okay? Please? Then I won’t have to come back and bother you again.”

“Fine. An annoying Everdeen wants him to fix a goat’s roof on Monday.” He shook his head incredulously at the bizarre message. “Good enough?”

Prim smirked at him. “Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

Katniss was utterly confused when, on Monday, she answered a knock at the door to find Peeta on the doorstep, hammer and jar of nails in hand, eager and upbeat.

“Hey Katniss! Ready to start?”

Her brow furrowed. “...Start what?”

“Fixing the roof. Today’s the day, right?”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“Pearse said you needed my help fixing the roof over your goat pen. You told him a few days ago.”

“No, I didn’t.”

An awkward silence fell over the threshold.  Katniss wracked her brain for how Pearse could have possibly known she was planning to fix the little hutch in Lady’s pen. She’d mentioned to Gale that she’d been putting it off too long, but she could have sworn that was in the forest, not near the bakery.

“You didn’t?”

Katniss shook her head.

“Then what was he...” Peeta trailed off, then his eyes widened in realization. “Pearse totally pranked me. Because he knows I-” the last part of his sentence was choked off, though Katniss had dearly wanted to know how it would finish. “I feel like such an idiot.”

“Don’t. Pearse is the idiot. And it was nice that you were so willing to help.”

Peeta groaned. “This is so embarrassing. And I’m sorry to bother you. It sounds crazy, now that I think about it. You probably don’t even _have_ a roof over your goat pen, and why would you ask me?”

“Actually, we do.” Katniss bit her lip, considering. Peeta looked positively mortified, and she hated to let him leave like that. Plus, it was hard not to remember how exhilarating it had been to dance with him, even just to talk with him. That hunger to know him was still there, and here was her chance.

“And it’s in pretty bad shape. I’ve been meaning to patch it up for weeks.” She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “If you’re not busy, I could use some help.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Peeta sighed, grateful for a reason to stay.

Prim, who had been waiting with baited breath in the other room, swooped out to announce that she would walk Lady to the Meadow, to keep the goat out of the way.

And so Prim headed off with Lady, silently cackling at her own genius, while Katniss and Peeta started assessing the roof.

As they gathered the boards and materials, Katniss noticed that Peeta kept sneaking glances at her. And it didn’t seem to be because she’d been stealing glances at him first.

When they traded the hammer back forth, Peeta seemed to take any opportunity to brush her hand. Katniss thought this was a marvelous idea, and started devising little ways to touch him as well - letting her thigh brush his when crouching next to him to hold a board in place, steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder when she rose back up on the sloped roof.

They chatted back and forth easily, this time about nothing of import, and as more time passed, her heart grew more and more buoyant.

She’d always assumed that if her heart was filled with anyone but Prim, it would weigh her down, and ultimately drag her to where her mother had fallen after the death of her father. But that eventuality seemed hard to believe now. The time she spent with Peeta was starting to make her feel even freer than when she was in the woods. She didn’t want to give it up.

All too soon though, the roof was finished, and the overcast sky was looking like rain.

Katniss didn’t want to let Peeta go. So she kept talking, telling the story of how she’d gotten Lady for Prim’s birthday. He’d gone to the trouble of fixing the hutch, he might as well know the story behind the goat.

Peeta followed up with his own story about a birthday present. The first time he was given paints as a gift, Mr. Mellark left them on the kitchen table as a surprise for when Peeta came down to breakfast. But since it was his birthday, Peeta had been allowed to sleep in, and when he woke up, everyone else was out tending the shop front. Painting was so rare an activity in Twelve, that Peeta, only eight, didn’t realize what his present was. Assuming they were little containers of fancy frosting, he cheerfully endeavored to paint a dozen cookies before his father intervened.

His retelling had Katniss in stitches, and as their laughter dispersed, they watched each other with admiration. Then the skies finally made good on their threat, and rain began to fall. Despite the darkness of the clouds, a light lingered inside her.

They’d been highly aware of each other for years, but it had been so long before they ever spoke. Who knows how many stories, just like this one, she’d missed out on. Katniss found herself wanting the chance to go back and talk to him much sooner.

“I guess I’d better head back home, and let you get inside,” Peeta said, his reluctance palpable. “I’ve really enjoyed being able to talk to you like this. I wish there was more chance to do it regularly. “

“I wish that too,” she said softly.

Peeta stepped closer. “Well maybe we could set aside a time, and pick a place, and just...spend some time together.” His ears were pink. She realized he was nervous, and felt a burst of warmth in her chest.

Katniss began to answer in the affirmative, and Peeta’s eyes dipped to follow the movement of her lips. His eyelashes were damp and darkened by the rain. Even clinging together from the moisture, they were still long and utterly distracting. And instead of agreeing to meet more often, as she’d intended, Katniss leaned forward and pulled toward her, until his lips met hers.

 

* * *

 

Prim started back from the meadow when it started raining.  They must have finished the roof by now; it felt like she had walked around the meadow a hundred times with Lady. When she got back, Prim headed behind the house to pen Lucky and check on the status of the hutch.

She halted in her tracks, her mouth dropping open in surprise and glee. They’d finished fixing the roof, but  Katniss and Peeta hadn’t moved far from there.  The rain was falling around them, but the two were completely wrapped up in each other. Katniss clung to Peeta like he was her last tether to the world, and Peeta held onto her like she was life itself. Prim was half-tempted to cover Lady’s eyes.

“C’mon Lady,” she whispered. “You can stay in the kitchen for a little while.”

It was some time later that Katniss entered the house. Prim grinned as she slid a cup of tea in her sister’s direction. Katniss sank heavily into her seat. Her hair was plastered to her head by the rain, and Prim could hear droplets from her jacket hitting the kitchen floor.

“So…how’d it go?” Prim teased with a grin. Katniss slumped down and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh Prim!” she moaned. “I’ve messed up!”

The smile dropped from Prim’s face. That wasn’t the reaction she expected.

“I swore I’d never do this, never get...attached. But Prim, Peeta’s different! It’s like...none of that seems to matter, nothing I’ve told myself for so long makes the slightest difference. I- I  still _feel_ for him.”

Prim reached across the table and laid her hand over her sister’s. “Hey, it’s not so dire as you’re making it out to be. It was just a kiss, right? And what’s wrong with that? Unless...it wasn’t all that good.” Prim frowned thoughtfully. “Huh. I never thought he’d be so bad at it....”

Katniss groaned. “It wasn’t bad, Prim! It was the opposite, which is the whole problem! This wasn’t supposed to happen! I refuse to get attached to anyone. I won’t be weak. I won’t be like Mom was.”

“That seems extreme,” Prim criticized. “Besides, I always thought you were at your strongest when it came to people you loved - people you’re _attached_ to. Like when Dad died, and you kept us going.”

Katniss’s face was awash with pain. “What happened then is exactly the reason I’m saying this.”

Prim understood why Katniss would take this approach. She’d been so young, but she remembered what their father’s death was like, the way her mother had been absent in everything but body.  Prim knew she’d never know the full extent of what Katniss had to deal with, the desperation and terror that they’d be taken to the community home or starve, but she had an idea.

But they weren’t in those straits anymore. And hadn't been for a long time. living in perpetual expectation of a return to those days wasn’t logical or healthy. Katniss needed to embrace the possibilities of happiness that did exist in Twelve, few as they were.

“If you don’t want things to go further, they don’t have to. But there’s no need to decide immediately,” Prim said reasonably. “You can think things over, decide what you want and what you don’t…”

Katniss raised her head abruptly. “I already made my decision. I had to, while I still could. I know what I _want_ , but it’s something I can’t have. Prim, if I’d waited, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to walk away. So it had to be before anything really started.”

Prim’s heart sank. “And you told Peeta all this?” she asked with a small voice.

Katniss looked even more miserable at the question. “Not in so many words. I told him it couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ happen between us.”

Prim sighed sadly. She’d been so sure that Peeta would be great for her sister. “Katniss, you don’t have to punish yourself just because Dad died and Mom checked out. Just because things ended badly doesn’t mean the rest wasn’t worthwhile. You remember how things were before better than I do. Wasn’t it all worth it?”

She stared into her sister’s gray eyes, willing her to understand that connection and caring made a person _stronger_ , not more vulnerable. But Katniss’s eyes only grew more shuttered.

Katniss stood, shaking off her coat and hanging it by the fire. Prim didn’t understand. She couldn’t, because she hadn’t seen herself those hollow days - heart broken, starving, fading away.

“No,” Katniss said. “It’s not worth it.” She exited the kitchen.

And Prim knew the conversation was over.

 

* * *

 

But saying the words and making herself believe them were two different things. In the months that followed, Katniss put a on a brave face, filled with resolve, and avoided the bakery like the plague. She threw herself into hunting and foraging, as she always had. Life in Twelve had never been bright or hopeful, but things seemed even more pallid than usual.

Every time she allowed herself to think of Peeta, an indulgence she tried to avoid, she was wracked with regret. She’d hurt him, she knew. And she missed him. Which was ridiculous, because they hadn’t even known each other all that well. But whatever she felt, Katniss had made up her mind, and she  wouldn’t second guess herself.

Prim had no qualms second guessing Katniss’s judgment. Her sister may know very well how to hunt, how to keep her loved ones fed and protected, and how to save her family’s lives, but Katniss did not know how to listen to her own needs, or do something purely for herself.

That’s why Katniss needed her interference. Err... _help_.

It had been months, and it was obvious that Katniss was still struggling to reconcile the way she’d left things with Peeta. She was clearly mourning her decision, she just wouldn’t admit it to herself. Luckily, Prim was perceptive enough for the both of them.

 

* * *

 

Prim wrinkled her nose as she gladly exchanged the dead squirrel for a loaf of bread. Katniss rarely traded in person with the bakery now, she usually sent Prim to do it. At least she always had the courtesy to wrap the squirrels in paper before passing them to Prim, but it was still gross.

Peeta, subdued of late, lifted hesitant eyes to her. “I was wondering if you’d deliver a message for me?”

Prim bit the inside of her cheek. She felt for Peeta, but her loyalties were with Katniss. Still, she was convinced her sister still cared deeply for the baker’s youngest son. Prim hadn’t given up on the two of them, she just hadn’t figured out how to fix things yet. If this note would only hurt Katniss further, Prim couldn’t agree to deliver it.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he continued dejectedly. “I’m good at doing nothing, I suppose. But I have to try, don’t I?”

Prim nodded sadly.

“Come on in. I’ll get it.” Prim stepped inside, and looked around at all the baked goods in varying states of completion. There was even a fancy toasting cake, with several tiers, awaiting floral accents. She didn’t know how they resisted sampling everything in sight.

Peeta returned with a folded slip of paper. “I won’t ask you not to read it. And thank you.”

Prim nodded and left. As soon as she was out of sight of the bakery, she unfolded the note and began reading.

_I miss you. On the rare days you come to trade, it’s like you look right through me.  I’m sorry about that day last spring. I’ll regret that I made you uncomfortable forever._

Prim paused, exasperated. Katniss had confessed that _she_ had been the one to initiate the things with Peeta that day. She’d become overwhelmed and needed distance from the situation, true, but now it sounded like Peeta was blaming himself for the whole thing.

_Can’t we go back to the way things were right before? When we were talking more, and getting to know each other? I can’t forget what it was like to hold you, but if that’s not what you want, I will be happy with anything you’ll allow._

_Please talk to me._

_Peeta_

Prim felt her lip tremble. These two _idiots_ belonged together. It was time to act.

She was waiting for Katniss when she returned from hunting.

“Here. This is for you.” Prim handed over the note without another word.

Katniss was frozen. She’d been chased by bears, and faced the Capitol’s wrath daily slipping past the fence, but Katniss was clearly afraid of the note’s contents.

Prim wondered which Katniss feared more: that Peeta still returned her feelings, or that he didn’t. Prim would soon find out, as she had a plan.

“Did you read it?” Katniss asked nervously.

“No,” Prim lied. She couldn’t tell if Katniss believed her. It was irrelevant.

“Go on,” Prim prodded.

Katniss turned away and unfolded the note. She sat down at the kitchen table to read it. When she finished, she just sat there, the note before her.

Prim walked around and sat opposite her. “What are you going to do?” she asked softly.

Katniss looked miserable.

“Are you going to answer it?”

Katniss hung her head in defeat. “I can’t, Prim. I can’t.”

The younger Everdeen pursed her lips. Katniss couldn’t forsake all attachments just because she was scared. That was no way to live, and Prim cared too much to let her sabotage a chance at happiness before she’d even considered it.

“Oh,” Prim sighed resignedly. “It’s just as well.”

Katniss peeked back up at Prim warily. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I think this note is pretty old. I found it in my pocket today, but I don’t know when Peeta slipped it in there for me to give to you. He’s probably been waiting for an answer for ages. It would only make sense, seeing as he was working on that toasting cake today.”

Katniss raised a brow, suspicious. “What would that have to do with anything? Peeta decorates cakes all the time.”

“Well, I got the impression that it was _his_ toasting cake.”

Katniss looked like she’d just swallowed some bad wild dog stew.  “Peeta’s having a toasting?” she whispered, dismayed. “To whom?”

Prim had devised her current scheme on the walk home from the bakery. There had been no chance for detailed planning.

“Madge Undersee,” she blurted, internally wincing. Katniss would never believe it.

“ _Madge_ ? But she and Gale are inseparable!” Katniss protested. Then again, she thought with a touch of paranoia , a brooding Seam trapper probably wasn’t what the Mayor had in mind for a son-in-law. And Katniss _knew_ that Mrs. Mellark wouldn’t take kindly to her son getting involved with a stubborn huntress who had a mind of her own. Maybe Peeta and Madge had been pressured into it by their parents, and coming off her rejection of him, Peeta had accepted.

“Did he look happy?” Katniss asked, struggling to keep the pain out of her voice.

Prim’s heart ached. She could see how much the idea of Peeta no longer caring for her was hurting Katniss.

“No,” Prim answered gently. “He didn’t.” That at least was true.

“Well that’s unacceptable!” Katniss cried. She jumped to her feet. “They can’t just throw him and Madge together! He deserves to be happy, to be with someone he loves!”

“Even if it’s you?” Prim asked archly.

Katniss deflated. “I...don’t know,” she admitted. Prim raised her eyebrows. That was progress.

“What are you going to do about the note?” she asked.

“Who says I’m going to do anything?” Katniss challenged. 

Prim changed tactics. “Do you remember that thing Dad always used to say about happiness?”

Katniss hesitated. “He used to say, ‘for people who have known much hardship, sometimes the idea of happiness is the scariest thing of all.’ It’s why he was so determined to find ways to be happy, even here in Twelve. Why he did everything to make the most out of life.”

Prim smiled at his memory. “He and mom weren’t a conventional couple. They risked a lot for happiness.”

Katniss’s face closed off. “If you’re trying to sell me on a happily ever after, citing the way things ended for Mom and Dad isn’t going to cut it.”

“Dad went to the forest, even if it was dangerous. That made him happy.”

“He did that for survival. That it made him happy was incidental.”

Prim narrowed her eyes, determined to get through to Katniss.

“Dad sung because it made him, and others, happy. There were songs he sung that could have gotten him in trouble. but he sung them anyway, because he loved to sing, he loved those songs, and he loved their message. Imagine Dad without the singing. Would you rather he made the safe decision, or would you rather he embrace what made him happy, and sing?”

Katniss was silent, and Prim knew her words had hit her mark. She took her father’s coat back off the hook and handed it to Katniss.

“Better get going.”

Katniss shook her head, laughing at her sister’s cheek. Prim was delighted, as Katniss’s mood was already visibly elevated at the prospect of seeking out Peeta.

“You’re awfully bossy for a little sister,”Katniss tossed over her shoulder as she reached the door.

“You forgot ‘wise beyond her years’ and ‘always right!’” Prim called to her retreating back.

 

* * *

 

Katniss hurried to town. She didn’t know what her endgame was, but she knew Peeta couldn’t toast Madge. Or anyone else. Not if there was a chance he still felt the same way she did.

She couldn’t believe Gale hadn’t mentioned Madge was getting toasted to someone else. Last she heard, the two of them were still sneaking around and having a grand time. The familial pressure must have been extreme for Madge, usually so independent, to just give in. Perhaps the toasting was a knee jerk response to the discovery that Madge and Gale were together.

From the bakery window, she saw the lit oven and a loaf of bread sitting on the counter. Peeta was inside, putting the finishing touches on the cake he’d undoubtedly share with friends and family after the ceremony. Madge could arrive at any moment, there was no time to lose.

Katniss burst through the back door and into the bakery’s kitchen. “Don’t do it!”

Peeta froze, a spun-sugar lily poised over the top tier of the cake.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I pushed you away! I was scared, and I couldn’t accept what I wanted. I don’t know what sort of future to hope for, but I do know that I want you in it, not toasted to someone else!”

Peeta lowered his arms slowly, taking great care not to shatter the fragile sugar flower.

“I want you in my future too, Katniss. In any way you’ll have me.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t begin to describe how good it is to just hear your voice. And to put you at ease, I have no toasting plans in the near future.”

Katniss had been prepared to continue her campaign to derail Peeta’s toasting, but she paused. “Isn’t that your toasting cake?”

“Mine?” Peeta looked at the confection as though he was suddenly surprised to see it there. “Who am I toasting?” There was alarm in his voice, like maybe he’d missed a rather giant detail along the way.

“Well...Madge.”

“Madge _Undersee_? As in the mayor’s daughter?” Peeta asked incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be asking Gale this? I mean, I always used to wish you’d confuse me for Gale, back when I thought you and he-”

“But what about that loaf of bread right there?” Katniss cut in, desperately casting about for a threat to Peeta’s unmarried status to justify her invasion of the bakery.

Peeta contemplated the loaf in question, sitting innocently on the counter, and tried to see what so offended Katniss about it.

His head swiveled back to her. “This is a bakery, Katniss. There’s bread everywhere.”

There was a tiny smile hinting about the corner of his lips, and Katniss knew he was secretly laughing.

She spluttered in frustration at the whole situation. “So you’re just,” she waved her hand at the towering ivory dessert Peeta was still poised over, “decorating some _random_ cake _?_ ”

“Yes,” he said with conviction. “And I’m almost finished. Would you mind if I put this flower on? I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it before it breaks.” He glanced back at her roguishly. “And as soon as it’s done, I’d like very much to pick back up where we left off.”

Katniss nodded and turned away from him, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to stave off a headache and the inevitable humiliation from her outburst. Peeta seemed wholly unconcerned by it, but she was mortified.

She’d totally misread the situation. She had no idea where Prim got her information from, but it was completely wrong. And now she’d behaved like a madwoman, in front of someone whose opinion mattered greatly to her.

All the while, Peeta was watching her reaction carefully, as he placed and adjusted the flower atop the cake. He stepped away from the cake, and approached Katniss.

“I assume you got the note I gave Prim.”

“Yes. Only, she wasn’t sure when you might have left it with her. So when she saw you working on the cake, she told me, assuming the worst - that you’d given up on me.”

“Never,” vowed Peeta. “And I handed Prim that note this afternoon.”

Katniss stared in disbelief. Loose ends and puzzle pieces, all involving Prim’s fringe involvement in recent events, started to click into place. Her sister was far more sneaky and cunning than a little duck had any right to be. She might have to start calling her little weasel or fox instead.

“So, all this worry about toasting...does that mean you’re not as completely against the concept as you said?”

“No. I mean...I don’t know.” Katniss bit her lip and paused, searching inside herself. When she finally lifted her eyes to his, she looked almost surprised at her answer. “Someday...maybe?”

Peeta smiled. He reached out and took her hands, bringing each one up in turn, so he could place a gentle, reverent kiss in each palm. He trailed his hands up her arms, and gathered her to him.

“I can work with that,” he whispered, and she trembled in anticipation as his lips met hers.

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

Prim swept the flower petals off the kitchen table. Peeta seemed intent on gently unweaving each bud and blossom from Katniss’s hair, but he had a lot of them left to go. Katniss was doing nothing to help him, simply resting her head on his shoulder, eyes closed in bliss as he played with her intricately braided locks.

She’d earned a little rest, Prim thought. Toastings were barely nuptial ceremonies by Capitol standards, but they still took effort to coordinate, small as they were, and Katniss had never been the type for event planning. Still, it had been a lovely occasion, and even after the food was eaten and their friends and well-wishers departed, the couple across from her was still glowing.

“You know, it’s all thanks to me that you two ever got together,” Prim informed them, highly pleased with herself.

“Hmph,” Katniss mumbled. She was so relaxed she sounded almost asleep. “Would’ve happened anyways.”

Peeta grinned at her answer. “We’d better head home and go to bed. You sound like you’re about to drift off any minute.” Home for them was no longer the bakery or the Everdeen residence, but a modest little house nearby in the Seam.

At the mention of their toasting night, Katniss’s eyes opened, gleaming gray and wakeful. She stood from the table, and tugged Peeta to his feet as well. “Well don’t keep a girl waiting,” she teased, and turned to say goodbye to her mother.

Prim grinned knowingly.

Just to be safe, Peeta slid the plate of remaining berry tarts in her direction. Katniss hadn’t wanted toasting cake, so he’d made pastries galore.

The offering was an unspoken thank you. As Peeta and Katniss called out their goodbyes and headed toward their future with happy, hopeful steps, Prim licked her lips and chose a tart with care. This pranking and matchmaking business paid excellent edible dividends.

 

**End.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review! ;) 
> 
> I'm ghtlovesthg at tumblr.


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